Surprise
by once within a dream
Summary: [Complete] Tom Pullings has just been granted the Acheron by Jack Aubrey. Little does he know of the surprise waiting aboard the ship...
1. Surprise

**_A/N: _**Set right after Pullings gets the _Acheron_. Following him until he learns the secret the Frenchmen are hiding from the British…

* * *

Tom Pullings climbed down the rope ladder onto the tiny boat waiting to take him to his ship. His ship. The French-made vessel, the _Acheron_. He was the captain of one of the most advanced, fastest, impressive ships in the seas. Even though the much smaller H.M.S. _Surprise _had taken her, she was still a special ship. And she was _his_. He couldn't get over that wonderful thought! After all those hard years serving under "Lucky" Jack, 1st Lieutenant Pullings had a ship of his own. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed serving under Captain Aubrey; it was just amazing to have his dream come true for him. He was on top of the world, and nothing could bring him down. 

Even if she probably wouldn't stay under his command for too long, at least he had something for awhile, and she was Jack's prize. Perhaps he would be lucky and be able to keep her. Oh, what a thought… He waved at his former crew as he sailed the short distance to the _Acheron_. Then, he turned to face his ship. Ah, what a sight she was. Pity she had been under Napoleon's command. At least she wasn't anymore.

As he climbed aboard and stood in front of the French men, he realized how nervous he really was. Would they listen? Of course they would. They had to. He was their new captain, and they would follow his orders. All the men on the decks closest to him saluted respectfully at him. Suddenly, Tom realized his posture was horrible and quickly corrected that error. His face took on a more regal expression. He nodded in return to the Frenchmen's salute. "Go back to work. We are headed to the British Isles to report for orders."

The French sailors looked at him with confusion marking their features. He sighed, realizing most of them probably didn't understand English. He turned to the small amount of men he had taken with him. "Does anyone speak French? We need a translator." There was no answer. "Come on, men. One of you must know the language!"

A small, timid hand was slowly raised into the air. "I do, sir," came a quaky voice.

Tom looked over a few men's head to see a small boy, no older than fifteen. "Come to the front then."

"Yes, sir," said the boy hurriedly, as he rushed to the front. He gave a quick salute to Pullings once he reached him.

"Name?"

"Jonathan Wilson, sir!"

"Very good. You will be my official translator aboard the _Acheron_. Do you remember what I just said?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please tell the French then, Mr. Wilson, and after that you will accompany me down to see the ship's doctor," said Pullings, adjusting his jacket somewhat self-consciously.

Jonathan nodded, and walked past Tom. Gulping once, he translated what Pullings had said to them. A few looked disgruntled about going to the British Isles, but they had no say in the matter. All of them grudgingly went back to their tasks.

"Come along, Mr. Wilson," said Tom, starting to walk to some stairs leading down to where Jack had told him the surgeon was. After a few steps he realized the boy wasn't behind him. He turned around and addressed him, "Mr. Wilson!"

Jonathan snapped out of his reverie, and quickly ran up behind his commanding officer. Tom gave him a reproachful look before continuing on his way down farther into the ship. The young sailor held on the to hand rails provided for him, since the floor was wet.

"You will stay with me at all times for the remainder of the voyage, do you understand? I speak not a word of French and will need your help. I'm not sure, but I believe the doctor on this ship does speak English. Just in case he doesn't I'll have you along."

"Yes, sir."

Tom Pullings came to the bottom the steps and turned to the right, stepping over a few injured sailors. His companion looked extremely uncomfortable walking over the men, some alive and some dead. Tom found the door he was looking for and walked in. The surgeon looked up, a bit surprised at the intrusion.

"I am the Lieutenant appointed by Captain Aubrey of the H.M.S. _Surprise_ to watch over affairs here. My name is Tom Pullings."

The doctor immediately saluted.

"I am the surgeon of the _Acheron_, Philippe Auguste. Please to… make your acquaintance," said the young man, in his mid thirties. His voice held a heavy French accent.

Tom nodded and turned to Jonathan. "Your assistance is not needed at the moment. If you will please wait outside until I call for you."

Jonathan saluted. "Yes, sir." Quickly, he left the two men alone.

"How many able bodied sailors were there aboard this ship?" asked Tom, looking around and examining the architecture of the room.

"203 souls, sir," stated the surgeon, watching him carefully.

"How many dead?"

"They aren't all accounted for yet."

"Wounded?"

"Same, sir. Not all accounted for."

Tom nodded, preparing to leave the room. "Thank you. I will be back down if I require anymore assistance."

His hand had just reached the doorknob when he felt a sharp blade across his neck. "I believe, _monsieur_," said a voice in his ear, "that you will be needing assistance much sooner than you anticipated."

Something hard hit his head, and the 1st Lieutenant of the _Surprise _was knocked unconscious.

* * *

Tom stirred slightly, his head hurting horribly. Groaning, he sat up slowly so he didn't disturb it further. "Dear god… What happened?" he moaned. 

"You, my dear friend, were tricked by the Great Napoleon's army," said an arrogantvoice.

Pullings eyes opened slowly, to reveal the surgeon in a captain's uniform he had talked to earlier standing behind bars. Or was it he who was behind the bars?

"But…" began Tom, but not being able to find any words to say.

"But what, _monsieur_? You were captured along with the few men you brought along, plain and simple."

"How…?"

"The _Acheron_'s surgeon died a few months ago due to fever, not her captain. As a matter of fact, you have the great honor to be in the presence of her captain." Smirking with such arrogance, enough to make Tom sick, the captain continued, "I did not lie in saying my name is Philippe Auguste, but you and your captain were fools to believe the French were to surrender so easily."

"My men?"

"Are in the cell next to you…"

"You know you won't get away with this for long. The _Surprise _will be coming for us at any time."

The French captain chuckled. "We will see…" He began to walk off. "We will see…"

* * *

**_A/N:_** How did you like? Sorry if I got a few small facts wrong, etc. You can correct me if you feel the need to. I might continue if I get a few people to ask me to, and if I can think of more to write. Otherwise, this is going to stay a one-shot. 

**The End… or is it? **(Sorry, couldn't resist!)


	2. The Battle

**_A/N: _**This is the second part of _Surprise_! I hope you enjoy. Also, I have no qualms against the French, but remember Pullings and the other British sailors would.

Remember this was a one-shot that I made into a _short _story.

* * *

A constant bang of metal meeting something else awoke Tom Pullings from his half consciousness. He drowsily looked around and contemplated where he was. Shouldn't he be in the captain's quarters? Slowly, it all came back to him. The damnable French! It was completely ungentlemanly like to pull such a horrible trick while in the Navy. Then he remembered, they were the French.

"Mr. Pullings? Mr. Pullings are you alright? We saw when you were put into your cell. Did they hurt you?" asked a small voice. "You were unconscious when they put you in."

Tom slowly made his way to the bars of his cell and looked out to see one of his men's hands sticking out of their cell and waving at him. He raised one eyebrow, but replied, "Besides a large lump on my head, I'm quite alright. Is everyone over there unhurt?"

"A few bumps and bruises, sir. Of course none of us went without a fight."

"Yes, yes, that's very good. What's your name officer?"

"I'm your translator, sir! Jonathan Wilson."

Pullings nodded before realizing the young boy couldn't see him. "Very well. Do try to get some rest and don't fret. Captain Aubrey will come after us soon enough." He shivered at the thought. He had finally been put in charge, and then he had to mess it up. Tom was very reluctant to see how the captain would react.

"Yes, sir."

Tom went back to lie down on the horrible cot they had provided for their prisoners. He sighed rolled over so he was facing the bars of his prison. As long as he was conscious he wasn't about to trust the French again. They had tricked him once, and they wouldn't do it again.

* * *

_A few days later…_

Tom Pullings laid on his back throwing a rock he had found in his cell up at the ceiling. His face hadn't been shaven in the days he had been in the _Acheron_'s prison. Nothing had happened to cause any worry or excitement. He and his men were brought food twice a day, though, with the horrible scraps they got, they should have been receiving food more often.

A few frantic words yelled in French caught his attention. He stood up quickly and walked to the bars of his cell. "Wilson!" he called.

"Yes, sir?" was his answer.

"Did you catch what the Frenchman just yelled?" asked Pullings urgently.

"No, sir, I'm sorry."

A scowl appeared on Tom's face. "Keep a good ear for all that they say."

"Yes, sir."

Pullings began to walk back over to his cot when he heard something else called out. "Wilson! Did you catch that?"

"Yes, sir! He said to get the guns and cannons ready. The H.M.S. _Surprise _is approaching."

Tom tried to hold his excitement to a minimum. "Very good! I guess we shan't be waiting much longer!"

A happy yell went up from the cell next to his. He smiled warmly, but warned, "We best act as if we didn't know about this. Be quiet for the time being."

"Yes, sir," replied a few low whisperers.

The 1st Lieutenant walked back to his cot with an extra spring in his step. They would be saved soon! Lucky Jack was sure to beat the French again and save his crew. Why, if he beat them once, what was stopping him from doing it again?

A loud boom came from the _Acheron _signaling the beginning of the battle. Tom sat on the edge of his seat waiting for the next move to be made. He was sure the _Surprise _would soon overtake the larger vessel.

And, he was right. After only a few minutes of shooting men from the _Surprise_ were already boarding the _Acheron. _They all seemed to have a vengeance against her for tricking them and taking part of their crew.

A Frenchman walked past the prisoner's cells with a very strained look on his face. As he passed, Pullings' cell he stopped and did a double take, as if realizing something for the first time. Quickly, he walked over to the wall, grabbed the keys to the cell, and unlocked Pullings.

"Thank you, sir! I don't know why you would free me unless you are a spy, but-" Pullings was cut short with a hand over his mouth and a knife at his throat. His black humor laughed, finding it very funny that he had been put in the same position in less than a few days.

"Pullings!" came a loud, commanding voice calling for him. Then another, "Pullings!" But, this time it was more desperate.

A sharp, searing pain crossed Tom Pullings neck, making him lose all sense of feeling beside that horrible pain. He faintly heard someone calling his name and looked to see his captain coming towards him. Then, all was black.

* * *

The sound of two hushed voices conversing cut into Pullings' dream, and he felt his eyes slowly begin to flicker open. A low light and two figures stood in his short range of vision. He groaned and tried to move, but found that it felt as if his body weighed a ton. Both of the figures were alerted by his sudden sign of life that they immediately came and stood over him. He recognized one to be the _Surprise_'s doctor, Stephen Maturin, and the other was his very own captain.

"Pullings?" asked Jack, peering at him like a worried father. "Can you speak?"

Tom replied with a croaking noise.

"Well, don't try to stress yourself," replied Jack.

"And don't you think of stressing _him_," said the doctor, in a stern voice. "He just woke up after being unconscious for days."

"I'm quite aware of that, but I need him to help me with both of the ships."

"Not until he's well, besides you have Mowett."

"He's on the other ship!"

"Mr. Pullings here was almost killed!"

Jack glared for a moment before giving in to the doctor's orders. A silence enveloped the three men for a moment before a soft voice broke through it.

"What happened?" whispered Pullings.

Jack looked at Stephen. "Can I at least tell him that?"

Begrudgingly, Stephen replied, "Yes."

Jack nodded at Stephen, cleared his throat, and the faced Tom. "Not a day after you left to take the _Acheron _to the British Isles, we learned of the deceptive trick the French had played on us. Immediately, we turned around and came after you. After days of chasing, we finally caught up. As you know, a battle ensued; we won of course, but as I was coming to free you, a Frenchman had beaten me to your cell. As he saw me coming, he slit your throat. At that moment, I was sure you were dead. I killed the sailor who had injured you and had taken your body back to our ship when the good doctor here examined you and proclaimed you were not dead. Obviously, the cut was not very deep, and in the end not fatal. For days we've been waiting for you to wake up," recounted Jack, "and thanks to the good doctor you finally have."

"Are… are we still with the _Acheron_?" asked Pullings.

"Yes, we aren't going to let her pull a trick like that on us again. We are escorting her our self with Mowett in charge on her. Of course, the second you feel up to it, you can take charge." Jack took one look at Stephen, and then added, "That is, if the good doctor allows it, and you are better before the time we reach the Isles."

Pullings moved his head slowly. Jack and Stephen took it as a nod.

"Get some rest, Mr. Pullings, and don't rush your recovery," said the doctor, pulling Jack with him as he walked out of the room.

"Yes, sir," murmured Pullings, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The End**


End file.
